


Of All the Beaches

by Lola99



Series: The Commander and The Champion [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Mass Effect
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:58:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola99/pseuds/Lola99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Crucible fired, destroying the Reapers, but sending Commander John Shepard into a strange, new world.  A world of magic, elves, dwarves…and a handsome stranger who went by the name of Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of All the Beaches

**Author's Note:**

> So, um, yes. This was inspired by a post on tumblr, and sort of took on a life of it’s own. I would apologize, but I honestly had entirely too much fun with it for that.  
> BioWare owns all, I just messed around with it a little. ;-)

 

* * *

 

 

“What in Andraste’s name is that?”

“That is a very good question, Blondie.  Was that...magic?”

“Not any magic I’ve ever seen.”

Garrett Hawke ignored his companions as he stared at the object that had just materialized in front of them.  It was smoking as he approached it.  Maker!  Was that…

When the ‘object’ groaned, he realized that yes, it was a person.  Hawke rushed over and knelt down next to...him.  It was indeed a man, and one who was very seriously injured.  

“Anders!  Get over here.  This man needs healing!”

Hawke knew basic healing spells, but he was nowhere near as skilled as the ex-Warden.  And this man, whoever he was, needed serious help.  His armor, which was made of some material he’d never seen before, was practically fused to his skin in places.

He felt Anders kneel down next to him and moved over to give him room.    

“Maker!  Hawke, this guy is in bad shape.  I can stabilize him for now, but I need some supplies from my clinic.”

Thinking quickly, Hawke nodded.  “Okay, do that.  Then Fenris can help me carry him back to my estate, and you can gather your supplies and meet us there.”

Anders leaned over the man and Hawke could feel the healing energy radiating off of him.  The stranger groaned again, but did not regain consciousness.  

Leaning over him, he said, “Hang on, friend.  We’ll take care of you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Shepard opened his eyes and felt a strong sense of deja vu as whiskey-colored eyes looked down on him with concern.  Eyes that he hadn’t seen since...well, for a long time.  Eyes that stirred something deep inside him, something he had thought died on the surface of Virmire.

“Kaidan?  Have I died then?  Did the Crucible kill me?”

The concern in those beautiful eyes turned to confusion, and that’s when he realized that they weren’t quite as familiar as he’d first thought.

“I do not know about this ‘kaidan’ or ‘crucible’ you speak of, friend.  But I assure you, you are not dead.  My healer, Anders, worked all through the night, but he assures me that you will recover.”

The man’s speech was strange, but his face was kind.  Shepard found that he trusted him and felt strangely at ease.

“Um...thank you.  Where am I?  This doesn’t look like the Citadel.”

As a matter of fact, it didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen before.  It almost looked..well, it was incredibly old-fashioned.  Outdated.  He was lying in a large, four-poster bed.  The walls were made of what looked like stone, and there were draperies everywhere.  A desk sat in the corner of the room, and was that…?  It was!  Quill and parchment sat on the desk.

“You are in Kirkwall, although I cannot say _how_ you got here.  Do you remember nothing?”

“I...no.  I destroyed the Reapers, I know that.  But then, I don’t remember anything.”

The man with kind eyes gave him a half smile.

“Your speech is strange, friend.  You use words in an unfamiliar way.  Where are you from?  And, more importantly, what is your name?”

“Shepard.  My name is John Shepard.  I’m from…”  

He trailed off, suddenly unsure how to answer that question.  Warm eyes changed from confused to concerned once again.

“Are you okay?  Do you remember where you are from?”

Shepard shook his head.  “No.  I mean, I remember, I just..I guess I’m not sure how to answer that.  I grew up on Mindoir, but I’ve spent most of my adult life aboard Alliance ships.”

“Ah.  So, you’re a sailor?  I’m not familiar with the Alliance.  Are they a merchant guild?  Maybe Isabela would know of them.”

Shepard found himself growing concerned.  This man had never heard of the Alliance, he spoke of healers and merchant guilds, and used quill and parchment.  He almost felt like he had fallen into the pages of one of those fantasy books that Kasumi had lent to him during his time in lockup.

That was ridiculous, of course.  Still, something was very strange about the situation he found himself in.

Who was this man in front of him and how in the world had he ended up here-wherever here was?

 

 

* * *

 

 

When the injured man had opened his eyes, Hawke had forgotten how to breathe for a moment.  He had never seen eyes quite that shade of blue.  He had, of course, noticed that the man was incredibly attractive.  But such thoughts hardly seemed appropriate while he was nursing him back to health, so he quickly shook it off.

Then the man had spoken.  His words were strange, but Maker, that voice!  It had reverberated through him, and Hawke had to shake off inappropriate thoughts for the second time in as many minutes.  What was the matter with him?  This man had obviously been through quite a lot, and had assumed he was dead like it was an expected outcome.

They spoke for several minutes.  He learned the man’s name, but not much else.  When Shepard grew quiet, Hawke suddenly remembered something Anders had said the night before.

_“I can’t really put my finger on it, Hawke.  It’s not magic like mine or yours, but there is something about him.  It’s actually closer to the feeling I get around Fenris, but not quite the same.”_

_“I don’t see any markings on this man.”_

_“Nor do I.  But he does have this strange...thing at the base of his skull.  I’ve never seen anything like it before.  Everything about this man is very strange.  Just...be careful.”_

_“Of course.”_

Coming back to the present, Hawke looked down at Shepard, saying, “I...have a question for you, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.  So please know that I bear you no ill will, no matter your answer.”

“Okay…”

“Are you a mage?”

“Am I a...mage?  Did you ask if I was a _mage_?”

Hawke knew he was treading on dangerous ground.  It was not wise to just go around admitting to strangers that one was an apostate.  Shepard could certainly be one, but not want to admit it.  Hawke could make him feel comfortable by admitting that he was one himself, but then he’d be the one taking a huge risk.

Something about this Shepard called to him though, told him that he was trustworthy.  He’d taken very few risks with his magic over the years, but he found himself taking one now.  Conjuring a simple flame spell, he let it dance above his fingers for a bit before putting it out.  When he looked back at Shepard, those beautiful blue eyes were wide with shock.

“How did you do that?”

Ah.  Well.  Not a mage, then.  But, he also didn’t seem to be a danger.  He didn’t look disgusted or afraid.  He looked fascinated.  Hawke shrugged.

“It’s a simple spell.  I’ve been able to do it since I was a child.”

“You...magic...where _am_ I?”

“Kirkwall, as I said before.  It is in the Free Marches.  Have you really never seen magic before?”

Shepard shook his head, and was silent for a bit before he finally said, “I…This is a lot to take in, and I’m suddenly exhausted.”

“Of course.  You still have a long recovery ahead of you.  I will leave so that you can get some rest.  There is a bell on the nightstand.  If you need anything, ring it, and either myself or Orana will come and assist you.”

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, Shepard.”

Hawke left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.  

Well, this was very curious indeed.  Hawke was pretty sure that magic was common enough throughout Thedas, even if it was feared in most places.  Where was this strange man from that he had never heard of it?

And how, if not by magic, had he simply appeared from nowhere in front of them?

 

 

* * *

 

 

They spent the next several weeks slowly getting to know each other as Shepard healed from his injuries.  The more that he learned about this ‘Thedas’, the more confused Shepard became.  It seemed that the Crucible had thrown him into another universe when it had fired.  Either that or he was lying unconscious in a hospital somewhere, and this was all some sort of coma-induced dream.  The latter seemed more likely, but for some reason, he found himself believing the former.

He tried to explain it all to Hawke, and he wasn’t sure if the other man believed him or not.  Who was he kidding? Hawke had to think that he was a raving lunatic, but he was nice enough to never say it.

A couple weeks after he first woke, Shepard became well enough to leave the estate, and Hawke took him out to meet some of his friends.  Aveline was first, and Shepard decided that Ashley would really like her.  She was obviously a soldier through-and-through, and protective of her friends.  

Anders had been next.  He was the healer that Hawke had mentioned, and he was apparently a mage as well.  Shepard thought it strange to think he had been healed by magic, but then he wondered what their reaction to medi-gel would be.  Anders had seemed nice enough, but there was something off about him, something that Shepard couldn’t quite put his finger on.  When he’d asked Hawke about it, the other man had simply shaken his head and said it was a long story.

They spent the rest of the day touring around the city and meeting everyone else.  There had been Fenris and Merrill, who were both elves (elves!).  This strange place was constantly throwing new curveballs at him.  There had been Sebastian, who was apparently a man of the cloth.  So, Shepard learned a little about their religion.  When he’d asked Hawke if he believed in it, he’d shrugged and said that he really didn’t know.  Apparently, the Chantry didn’t treat mages very well.

The last place they had ended up was a tavern called The Hanged Man.  There he was introduced to Isabela and Varric.  He found that he really liked Isabela, once he got past the whole _pirate_ thing.  It didn’t seem to have the same stigma here as it did back home.  They actually had quite a bit in common, and had both sort of washed up in Kirkwall after having lost their ships.  He did have to gently tell her that she was barking up the completely wrong tree when she’d started blatantly hitting on him.

Varric turned out to be the most interesting person he met, though.  All of Hawke’s friends had been protective of the man, and had treated Shepard with at least a small amount of suspicion.  The dwarf (dwarf!) was the most protective of them all, but he was also the one who seemed the most ready to accept Hawke’s trust of him.

Over the next week or so, when Hawke was out on some sort of business or another, Shepard would make his way to the Hanged Man, and Varric would tell him the story of the Champion.  He found himself amazed at the similarities between Hawke and himself.  They had both lost their entire family, although Hawke’s losses were more recent.

While Shepard had been fighting Reapers that wanted to ‘destroy life to save it’, Hawke had been here protecting Kirkwall from these Qunari, who wanted to ‘give people freedom by taking away choices’.  He had pulled together his little motley crew of warriors, mages and rogues, seeming to be the glue that held them all together.

Shepard found himself feeling more and more drawn to Hawke, the better he got to know him.  Other than being absolutely gorgeous, the man was strong and kind.  He was a true champion in every sense of the world that Shepard understood.  It was a struggle not to be too obvious as he peppered the dwarf with questions.

Varric had also been fascinated by Shepard’s own story, taking it all in without batting an eye.  He never got the feeling that he was humoring him, although he was certain that he was filing a lot of it away for later, when he was telling stories at the bar.

Shepard didn’t mind.  It was worth it if it meant getting information on the man who had his emotions in such turmoil.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Shepard had been there for a little over a month, when Hawke approached him with an idea he’d had.  He was in the courtyard with Isabela, practicing with daggers.  Shepard had explained something of his ‘biotics’ to him, and it he’d found it fascinating.  They’d talked about it’s applications in battle, and Hawke had decided that it seemed to work the best with the way Isabela fought.  Shepard had taken quite well to it, even though he still occasionally talked about missing his ‘shotgun’.  Whatever that was.

Taking advantage of a small break in their sparring, Hawke stepped forward and said, “Shepard, I’m not sure if it would help in any way, but would you like me to take you to the spot where you first...uh, appeared in our world?”

Shepard looked at him in surprise.  “Huh, I never thought about it.  Like you said, I’m not sure it would help, but...okay.  Why not?”

“Oh!  Excellent.  I, uh...well, it’s along the beach actually.  I, um...well, I thought we could have Orana pack us a picnic basket, and we could make a day of it.”

Hawke obstinately ignored Isabela smirking at him in the background, and instead focused on Shepard’s reaction.  

There was only a brief hesitation before he smiled and said, “I think that sounds like a great idea.  We can be done for today, right Bela?”

“Oh, yes.  I have some important business to take care of anyways.”  As she walked past him, Hawke swore he heard her say under her breath, “Like find a nice bush along the wounded coast to hide in…”

“ _Isabela_!”

Her answering laugh slowly faded as she made her way out of the courtyard and into the alleyway.  Shaking his head, Hawke turned back to Shepard, trying to ignore the nervousness he suddenly felt.

At least it seemed he wasn’t alone as Shepard shifted awkwardly before saying, “So...I, uh.  I should go clean up a bit before we leave.”

“Yes!  I mean, not that you need it, I just...Um, what I meant to say was...that will give me time to talk to Orana about that picnic.”

Shepard gave him one of those huge grins that made his stomach do flips and then walked into the house.  Hawk followed behind, silently cursing himself for being such a blithering idiot.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later, Shepard found himself staring down at the spot in the sand where he had first come into this world.  Into _Hawke’s_ world.  As he’d predicted, there were no answers there.  A few places where the sand and fused into glass, but otherwise no clue as to what had brought him there.  Looking over at the man standing next to him, he wondered if he even cared anymore.

As if reading his mind, Hawke looked over at him and said, “I guess there’s nothing here.  I’m sorry.  I guess it wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  A beautiful day, a long walk along the beach, and a fine picnic.  Not such a bad day.”  Shepard’s heart beat a little faster as he reached for Hawke’s hand, said a silent prayer that he wasn’t completely misreading things, and said, “And I couldn’t ask for better company.”

The answering smile, and slight blush, set Shepard’s mind at ease and emboldened him.  Tugging on the hand that was clasped in his own, he brought his other hand up to the back Hawke’s head and pulled it closer to his own.  He felt the other man’s shuddering breath against his lips and smiled.

Shepard wasn’t sure who had closed that last, small distance between them.  He only knew that he was finally kissing Hawke, and it was a million times better than he’d been imagining since waking up and looking into those whiskey eyes for the first time.

At first it was just lips and teeth.  But then there were tongues and hands fisted in hair, and someone let out a breathy moan.  Did that come from him?  Or Hawke?  Didn’t matter.  Suddenly fingers were fumbling with clothing, and _for fuck’s sake_ , why were the clothes in this world so goddamned _complicated_?

His growl of frustration caused Hawke to give a breathless chuckle against his mouth.  The sound went straight to Shepard’s groin.  Giving up on all the stupid buckles, he grabbed Hawke’s hips and ground them against his own, ridiculously satisfied to feel that the other man was in the exact same state.

Never breaking the kiss, the pair slowly made their way towards the blanket they had spread out on the sand, dropping on top of it in a pile of tangled limbs.  Shepard rolled Hawke onto his back, moving his lips down his neck, nipping and licking and kissing and absolutely _loving_ the feeling of the other man squirming beneath him.  He moved his hand down and grasped Hawke’s erection over the top of his robes.

“Shepard!  Maker!”

He chuckled and continued to move down, lifting Hawke’s robes and freeing his cock from his small clothes.  Shepard muttered his own praise at the sight.  A drop of pre-cum beaded on the tip.  Bringing his head down, he licked it off and then licked him once more, from base to tip, before taking him completely in his mouth.  There was another groan, and then Hawke’s fingers were wrapped in his hair, urging him along while his hips thrust upwards.

This had been building for so long, he knew neither of them would last long.  With one hand Shepard reached down, fumbling to try and free himself from his own leather breeches.  Hawke realized what he was doing and pulled Shepard up, kissing him full on the mouth, while smoothly unlacing him.  His erection sprang free, and Hawke wrapped his hand around them both.

Their hips moved at a frenzied pace, kisses repeatedly interrupted by gasps and moans.  As he’d predicted, it didn’t take long before they were both tensing.  There was an electricity in the air from the combination of his losing a small amount of control of his biotics, and Hawke letting loose with a tiny bit of magical energy.  It made their climaxes so intense that they bordered almost on violent.

Hawke came first, alternating cries of “Shepard” and “Maker” pouring from his lips.  A few thrusts later, and Shepard joined him, his own cries of “Fuck” and “Hawke” sounding much less refined.  He rolled over onto his back, trying to catch his breath.  

After a moment, he felt Hawke shift next to him, rolling onto his side and placing a soft kiss on his neck.  Shepard wrapped an around him, pulling him in closer and bringing a hand up to run fingers through his hair.

“Shepard, that was…”

“Intense, powerful, utterly _amazing_?”

“Yes.”

Shepard smiled and then placed a gentle kiss on Hawke’s forehead.  Turning his head slightly he looked once more at the place where he had been thrust into this strange world.

“You know, Hawke, of all the beaches, in all the possible universes, I have to say that I’m incredibly glad that I turned up on this one.”

“As am I, Shepard.  As am I.”


End file.
